Hadrian Edgelord and the Philosopher's Stone
by GilcuruLend
Summary: A very Sirius story about Hadrian Potter using his most cunning abilities as the most powerful (and cunning) wizard in Britain. Edgy!Intelligent!Dark!Crafty!ExclamationMark!Cunning!Gray!Smart!Wise!Great!Wizard!Powerful!Exemplary!Extraordinary!Intuitive!SuperRational!Super!Harry. One shot for now.


AN: For now, this is a one-shot.

Hadrian Potter looks up. The mail has arrived. "Minion! Get the mail for me."

"Get it yourself, Harry." Dudley sneers at him. He got his name wrong again, too!

"Minion! My name is Hadrian, after my grandfather. I refuse to use that puerile name that you try to call me." After all, he is the most mature of all, and the most cunning.

"Shut up and get the mail! I don't know where you get those ideas of yours, freak, but I will not have it in my house!" Petunia screeches at him. He sighs. Lo is he, forever beholden to these foolish mortals who are below him. They will probably even mess up getting the mail. That's it, he'll get the mail himself. Can't trust those simpletons to do anything.

"I will get the mail myself," he announces and walks out the door. What a surprise, there's mail for him! He opens it immediately, throwing the rest of the mail into the wind. An invitation to a school called Hogwarts. He's a wizard! Or a witch, witches do dark magic he knows, and dark magic is clearly stronger thus he uses it. All his books have the evil people as necromancers or witches. He marches back inside, holding the parchment up high. Petunia pales, but he ignores her. "I will be attending this school of the most artful craft of the wizarding magic of the warting hogs. Excuse me, I must prepare."

"No you won't, you brat! Give that to me!" Petunia steps forward to grab the parchment out of his hands.

"Hiss! Hissssss! Hhhhiiiiiiissssssssssss!" She backs away at his intimidation techniques. Yes, he truly is the most powerful witch, even before learning magic. After all, he has an affinity for snakes, one of the five classical elements along with stone, wind, lava, and lightning. All mages–a general term for magic users–have a magical element affinity, he muses, except for the really weak ones. He'll have to fake ally with a lightning witch and steal his powers.

The next day, he has come up with his cunning plan. Those people who wear robes and randomly shake his hands sometimes; they must be wizards. He'll find one of them and demand they take him to his shopping. Luckily, he already knows where one lives, having tracked him back to his home most cunningly.

He leaves his aunt's house, ignoring her shouting about school. As if he would need to do something so silly! He already knows everything in school after all. He would be getting straight As, but his teachers have the misconception that they keep catching him cheating and fail him. As if he would ever be caught!

He has finally reached the apartment. He enacts his cunning plan of ringing the doorbell on the door. A man answers it; a rather plain man in his early thirties wearing normal clothes, but definitely the man in the robes.

"Who are–Harry Potter?"

"Yes, yes, no need to get excited. I am only the most amazing witch of all." The man begins to look at him dubiously. "My idiotic muggle 'guardians' have no idea where to shop for my school supplies, so I require a minion to bring me to the shops."

The fatuous man stares blankly. "What."

"Did you not hear? It may be too complicated for your little brain to handle, but I require assistance finding the shops as the foolish writer of the letter forgot to say where I could acquire those most interesting items on the list the letter had."

"Harry Potter was raised by muggles?" The man asks to himself. He then mutters something else–probably not important. "Alright, I'll take you there. I'm Kyle Young, muggleborn mediwizard. That means I had muggle parents and I work as a healer."

"Excellent. We shall go at once, minion." Whatever muggle means, anyways. Probably means they aren't important, like his aunt.

"If your living with muggles you should probably borrow my owl to send your reply to Hogwarts," Kyle says.

"Of course. Good thing I thought of that." He spends a quick minute scribbling a reply on some parchment Kyle supplies, then imperiously walks out, to be followed by his new minion.

It's a short walk to the alley. Really, quite cleverly disguised if they kept it from all those non-magical people. They drags his minion around, forcing him to pay for everything, buying his cauldron, books, robes, and other supplies. Apparently he is quite famous here; only to be expected by someone of his caliber. Although, they keep getting his name wrong.

Finally they reach their last (as it's more dramatically appropriate that way, he knows his stuff) destination: the wand makers. Olivander has apparently been making wands for quite some time, since 382 BC. He must be immortal, likely a trivial pursuit for wizards of such power. Hadrian strides into the shop. "Olivanders! I require a wand! Perhaps multiple, for I am so perfectly suited to everything multiple wands will jump into my hand."

"Please no, my wallet is hurting enough," his minion complains.

"Only one wand, and the wand chooses the wizard, young Harry Potter," Olivander says, peering closely at him.

"My name is Hadrian. That's what I said, multiple wands will choose me of course. Not let's get this on with, I have important things to do."

Olivander peers strangely at him and then begins measuring with those magic tape measures of his. He puts several wands in Hadrian's hands, none of them making so much as a spark. Finally, one does, and sparks go flying.

"Hawthorn and a Dragon Core, fifteen inches. An unusually large volatile wand fit for someone of a conflicted nature, though if it's master is not controlling enough it can even backfire. Are you up for the task?"

"Of course! I am perfectly capable of anything. Yes, this wand shall do nicely. It is truly a powerful wand of destiny."

They leave Diagon Alley shortly after, with his minion telling him to visit before Hogwarts start so he can take him to the train. He magnanimously accepted, knowing the poor man was only trying to see him again.

He spends the remaining weeks reading the books in his secret cupboard, occasionally deigning to leave to eat. The muggles haven't bothered him, likely too afraid of doing anything. Apparently he was correct about the difference between wizards and witches, it's separated by gender. Good thing he never introduced himself by anything but the proper way. In the week before he has to go, he commands his snakes–the most loyal of minions–to wait there for when he returns. He keeps one with him, hidden in his robes to act as a spy, though. A most cunning plan.

Soon enough he met back with him minion to take him to the Hogwarts Express, through Platform 9 3/4. Of course, his minion didn't follow him through, as he wouldn't want to be seen with a person of such low stature and have people not realize Kid is his minion. What a silly name anyways.

He finds a compartment for himself, and sits down. Soon enough a bushy haired girl walks in. "Can I–oh, you're Harry Potter!"

"Hadrian Potter. Many get it confused, don't worry, I'll still let you be my minion."

"Your minion?"

"Of course. I am the most powerful wizard of all, the fact I defeated Voldemort is proof of that."

She gasps when he says the former Dark Lord's name. He, of course, has the right to say it since he won it in a duel. It came as no surprise to him that he has already defeated a Dark Lord.

"But I read you defeated You-know-who as a baby! You couldn't possibly remember that!"

"Ah, but as I vanquished him I became the most powerful wizard in Britain."

"That… doesn't answer my–"

"Anyways, your petition to become a minion has been granted."

She looks uncomfortable, but continues on. "So what house do you want to be in? I'm hoping for Gryffindor. Dumbledoor was in it you know."

"Ah, the houses," he muses intelligently. "Truly, a wonderful institution. The warriors, the scholars, the servants, and the leaders. I, of course, will be in Slytherin. Do not worry Minion, you can still be my minion after the sorting."

"But Slytherin has the dark wizards!"

"You think I fear dark wizards? I already beat the strongest!"

"I–" she begins, then falters. "There's no use arguing with you, is there."

"Of course not. I am the best at arguments, as with everything."

The door opens. Three boys come inside, the one in front sneering at Minion. "Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. I thought I'd come in to help introduce you to the school. I can help you stay with the right sort of people."

"Ah, but the people near me are by definition the right sort of people as they are by me. Therefore I need no help. Though, I would accept you as a minion if you wish."

"You–you'll pay for that!" He snarls in anger.

"You would defy me? Hiss! Hiss!" Hadrian yells at the foolish boy, who pales then runs out the room. "Ah, the good 'ol hissing technique. None can stand that kind of intimidation."

Indeed, even Hermione seems to be paling, and glancing at the door. She must be in awe of his terrifying might. "Are you a parselmouth? You were hissing, just like snakes. You-know-who was said to be able to talk to snakes."

"Of course! I have every power. I won it by right of conquest." Hadrian preens.

A quick train ride and boat ride later and they're in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Almost splendid enough for him. Hermione is sorted into Gryffindor as expected.

"Potter, Harry," the teacher says.

"My most esteemed name is in fact Hadrian." He walks up to the chair, ignoring the gasps by many of the students and faculty members. The teacher frowns at him but puts the hat on his head anyways.

"Hat! Put my in Slytherin, the house of leaders," he demands mentally, after preparing his mental defenses.

"Slytherin? The house of cunning? No, you would not do good there."

"Not good? I am the master of planning! Wait, I see. I fit all the houses so perfectly you can't bear to put me in one. Don't worry, it'll be fine."

"Lazy, foolish, stupid and arrogant. There is only one house for you. Gryffindor!" The hat says the last aloud. Hadrian snarls, he already has enemies in the school sabotaging him. He strides over to the Gryffindor table, who are already cheering–as they should.


End file.
